


Welcome To The Pleasuredome! Have I Got A Surprise For You.....

by Galaxsphere347



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Other, Strong BDSM theme - procede with caution.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:42:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27743179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxsphere347/pseuds/Galaxsphere347
Summary: A horror and kinky sex tale featuring our favourite android monster! My concept was loosely inspired by the works of servetolive and explicitly fandroid, and my thanks also go to Cerephone for the Starbase nightclub rape setting.I don't own any part of Star Trek or its characters and I am not seeking financial gains for my work. This is simply for fun.Our reader is over her ordeal of being kidnapped by Lore to be his reluctant 'beauty assistant' and has joined her lower decks colleagues on Starbase 44 for some festive cheer.Little does she know what surprise awaits her...
Relationships: Lore (Star Trek)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 6





	Welcome To The Pleasuredome! Have I Got A Surprise For You.....

"Well it's not exactly festive but it's nice of the Captain to let us out for a bit of downtime!" Crewman Zack Collins remarks jovially as he downs a synthanol Tequila. 

"Yeah, it's usually just the big shots that get to celebrate like this," His colleague agrees, raising his glass jovially. "Happy Holidays Zack!" 

Music is blaring and colourful lights glitter and twinkle in the mayhem of merry making. 

"How about you Y/N?" 

The inquiry breaks you out of your sullen reverie. 

"Mm, I am having a great time Zack." 

It's not really your thing, but you agreed to tag along as it is better than staying in your tiny cabin alone.  
In truth you would prefer to be discussing all things wild and wonderful with Lieutenant Barclay, but unfortunately he is occupied elsewhere, on a hot date as it happens. 'Lucky him,' You muse, and take a sip of your Bajoran Spring wine. 

Zack continues to act the goat, showing off and basically being a bit obnoxious, which is frankly getting on your nerves. You stare into the distance, your vision blurring somewhat until your attention is taken by a group of people walking on the fringes of the throng. 

You recognise them immediately as the ship's senior officers. Still very much in character, unlike you and your colleagues, who have switched into party clothes and an equally merry mood, they remain professionally focused in their uniforms. 

They are heading for the VIP lounge, away from all the frenzy, and you gaze longingly at them, notably the last in line, Mr Data, who stops briefly to engage in conversation with his fellow Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge. You wish that you had something - anything - in your repertoire that could help you connect with him, but you know damned well you haven't. 

Your hobbies - cartoons, crafts and journalism would be too facile for his taste and you can't even fall back on your looks to gain his attention. You are sadly plain with a frumpy figure and despite your best efforts to look pretty tonight in a sexy dress with high heels, it hasn't worked. 

Nevertheless something compels you to get up from your seat and follow Mr Data, your drink in hand. You try to assume a sophisticated air, the synthanol giving you courage. However you are met with disappointment as he slips into the exclusive room out of your sight and a stern reptilian doorman bars you from entry. You are not going to argue and turn to walk away. You pause for a few seconds in the cool of the corridor to gather your thoughts before heading back to the club but as you do so a strange figure approaches you. Dressed in black, skin glinting gold in the low light. The horror roils up in your throat as realisation dawns. 'Oh no....' 

Lore. 

You fleetingly ask yourself how he got here and what he is doing, but you have no time to ruminate. A hand shoots out and grabs your shoulder forcibly compelling you to look him straight in those evil yellow eyes. 

"So, we meet again my little Plain Jane skivvy?" A shit eating smirk slithers across his face.  
"Thought you'd got away huh?" 

The familiarity of that oily voice sends a chill through every bone in your body. Obviously he has been watching you, the twisted fuck.... 

Before you can collect your wits he has dragged you along the corridor to a turbo lift. He bundles you in, and requests a deck right down in the bowels of the station. Doss dives, you think to yourself, perfect for a fugitive to hole themselves up in and commit unsavoury acts, possibly even murder...?

The lift stops and Lore shoves you along unceremoniously while maintaining his iron grip, until you reach a scuffed and dirty door. He mutters a command and it opens with a shuddering scrape, and you stumble inside. The tiny room is as seedy and rundown as you anticipate and smells like a Talarian mole rat. 

You are so petrified that you can hardly breathe. You wish you hadn't left your seat to chase the Commander. You know you are now right in it, up to your ears. 

Lore removes the hooded cloak which had partially obscured his face and the grotesque sight of his monstrous head is revealed in all its awful pomp. You thought you'd seen the last of it. 

"I am very disappointed in you," he hisses through his teeth, the words laced with venomous snark. "Your Starfleet heroes helped you escape me which really pissed me off."  
His tone suddenly changes to one of phony gentleness "However as it is what you Humans call the season of goodwill I am going to be generous and spare you punishment." 

You swallow apprehensively, not knowing whether to believe him or not. 

The creepy grimace returns as he delivers his proviso, "On one condition -"  
"As you might remember me saying, unlike my odious brother I am not 'anatomically correct' and I don't have sexuality subroutines in my programming. However..." 

Lore reaches over to a battered table and picks up a luxurious looking purple velvet box. He takes the lid off to reveal a shiny duranium phallus, at least 8 inches long and with an impressive girth. He proffers it to you like a box of Christmas candy. 

".... I thought I would indulge in some festive frivolity, and give a lucky lady a thrill so to speak. Just on a whim of course. And you my little wildcat should be flattered as you are that lady." He let's out a hard, dry mirthless laugh. 

You can only look on numb and speechless. Involuntarily your face screws up and you try to suppress it, but Lore has noticed and cuts his eyes at you. 

" Ha! I don't know know what you are so snotty and stuck up about. You should be gagging for it. I bet it is a long time since you experienced a cock inside you?" 

Your expression darkens, but you are careful not to upset him in case he flips and decides to kill you. 

" Beggars can't be choosers you know. What do you think you are entitled to? My Prince Charming little brother? Well unfortunately you only have me. His rough and sadistic older sibling." He languishes over the words mellifluously. Your stomach lurches.  
"But this evening just to spare your sensibilities I have this" 

Lore produces a black rubber gimp mask from the broken drawer of the table and slides it effortlessly over his bald head. Only the cruel yellow eyes and his freakily bending mouth are visible through the openings. You don't know what is worse, this or his bare face.  
You feel like a rodent in the claws of a Terran cat. 

You shudder as he takes the horrifying sick toy out of its casket and you avert your eyes. 

"Look at me bitch." 

He shucks his black apparel like a snake skin and stands naked without shame. With the awful fascination of horror you focus on the monster before you. Pale and ravaged with the bioplast torn away on the shoulder, revealing a chink of bare metal and dull twinkling lights. A huge zigzag scar courses down from the right pectoral to the left hip, a diagonal slash, knitted crudely together. Topped with the black rubber mask, it is something from your most lurid nightmares. 

Lore commands you to watch while he attaches that gruesome thing to where his genitals should be. You quail inside as you scan over the solid, uncompromising metal member, pointing proudly forward like a poised spear. You can already envisage the pain it will inflict in you. 

"I know what you're thinking," Lore snaps irritably, his patience evidently starting to wear thin. "So in order for you to stay quiet I have a little device for you too."  
From the same drawer he produces what appears a horses bridle. "Come here." He gestures you to him and you comply meekly. Any fight you had within you has now evaporated. 

The contraption has leather straps which Lore fixes around your face, and a metal band like a bit which pushes down on your tongue. It prevents you from making any vocal sounds at all and even swallowing is a struggle. 

'This is totally sick.' You think to yourself and wonder what evil deed you committed in a past life to deserve it.  
Before you can reflect any further, Lore grabs you and orders you to bend over the table, removing your underwear in a single flourish. You fear the worst. 

He digs his fingers into your hips and lines up the thing over your dry folds and then thrusts it in savagely. The cold, unforgiving metal sears through you like a dagger. You stifle a cry of pain. 

"Oh dear am I hurting you?" he mocks. "I don't usually care but as I'm in a good mood tonight I'll cut you some slack, anything to stop you from whining..." 

Roughly he pushes you away and goes to the bathroom area in the corner of the room. He takes a tube of lubricant and squeezes a blob over the deadly dildo, then recommences his ministrations. 

It isn't so bad this time but it still prods into you like a vicious spear and the greasy lubricant stings. Lore begins to work up a raggedy doggy fashion rhythm which bears little resemblance to real sex. It reminds you of what ignorant smutty little boys might do to imitate the act without penetration. You would laugh if the situation wasn't so dire.  
In short, Lore's attempts are pretty pathetic but you are mindful that the metal penis is agonising painful, chiefly because you are incapable of the desire to become wet and open enough to take it. 

You attempt to swallow but can't and drool starts to pool on your chin and drip to the floor. 

A chilling thought suddenly crosses your mind. This object is false and has no sensitivity because he has no urges to connect with it. He is merely assaulting you. Torturing you. For sport. There will be no climax, no finale. He can go on like this ad finitum until you are raw and bleeding. The utter hopelessness bites into you and tears prick at your lashes, ready to spill.  
You hope that Lore's phony attempts at desire will flag. After all he can't get anything out of it. Except a sick sadistic twist of empowerment. 

As the inhuman stabs continue to bludgeon you, your mind tries to focus elsewhere as a distraction. You think of the enlightening conversations you enjoy with Lieutenant Barclay, the imagined sweet innocence of Mr Data and the uncouth crewman Collins, who makes glib passes at you in Ten Forward. 

The bridle gagging you bites into your face and tongue, drawing blood which mingles with the drool on your chin. You can feel a slickness in your core - the lubricant mixed with what little wetness you can muster systematically in response to the brutal passionless thrusts of your assailant. The pain transcends to numbness and your mind disconnects from your body. 

The act seems to last an eternity but finally, miraculously it stops. Lore withdraws the wicked object and you tremble with the shock and fatigue before collapsing to the floor.  
He snorts derisively, observing your feeble spent form with contempt, and roughly removes the gag. You gasp and sob with relief. 

He quickly removes the metal cock, wipes it and replaces it in its plush box, snapping the lid shut, and pulls off the rubber mask, flinging it onto the rickety bunk next to the bridle.  
"Stupid weak Human." He spits disparagingly. "When you're ready just get out. I'm done with you." But then he spins around to face you waving his index finger with a mocking maleficent glare. 

You shudder. 

".....And don't even think about running crying to your Starfleet Shills - I'll be gone before you even raise the alarm. That's if they bother to listen to you of course." He brings his disgusting face close to yours, mouth bending into a freakish smile. "They will probably think you're making it up to draw attention to yourself. After all you are such a drab irrelevant little thing."  
And with that he pulls on his black garb, sweeps up his gruesome sex toys and exits the room with a forceful snort. 

You are incredulous that Lore can still act so superior when he is nothing but a sexless mechanoid, but simultaneously you bless the stars that fortune has favoured you and he's gone.  
You stagger to your feet and wobble over to the cracked wash basin, running the faucet and splashing cold water over your face and your burning lower regions. After pulling on your pants and adjusting your dress, you make your way as swiftly as possible out of the loathsome room and into the turbolift. 

By the time you get back to the nightclub you are virtually propping yourself up by sheer willpower and only that is saving you from passing out.  
Your colleagues catch sight of you and are by your side immediately. 

"My fucking stars, you look like you have been through a bout of parises squares with a Nausicaan!" Collins exclaims. "What happened?" 

"Lore... I was assaulted." you manage to croak. 

"Who?What?!" There was utter confusion. 

"Did you say Lore?" 

Through your hazy demeanour you make out the silhouette of Commander Data. You don't know what he is doing there but his presence is most appreciated.  
"What is your name?" 

"Y/N" you reply weakly. 

"Haven't I seen you before?"

"Yes sir. Your team rescued me when I was abducted by Lore on that deserted planet. I gave my report to one of your lieutenants." 

Mr Data gives a slight frown despite allegedly having no emotions, "Y/N you seem to be a magnet for my brother, though I am somewhat perplexed as to why. I also apologise for his abhorrent actions. "I will require a full report on this incident personally from you. Lore is now one of the Federation's most wanted criminals and needs to be stopped before he can inflict any further damage, but for now we need to get you to sickbay." 

"Yes of course, thank you sir." 

Instead of walking away, the android officer helps you to your feet and accompanies you along with your two colleagues to the transportation pad. You are gobsmacked. Despite the insanity of everything you have been through this evening it's like a Christmas present come true for you. 

It might be very embarrassing to recount your story in Mr Data's presence but if it was important to him and could assist in any way to apprehend Lore it would be worth it. 

Once you are safely in sick bay, your wounds are attended to and you are given a sedative. As you drift off into a deep sleep and your ordeal pushes back into a fuzzy haze, you are sustained by the image of Mr Data paying attention to you and showing care and concern. 

It isn't a lot in the grand scheme of things but it means the universe to you.

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is pure mindless sado-masochistic indulgence it does have a sort of 'happy ending' and also carries the message to stick close to your buddies when in a strange place. Stay safe everyone!


End file.
